


By the Light of the Moon

by toxicpop



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M, Other, Supernatural Creatures, Tis the Season to be Spooky, Werewolves, Witchcraft, comedy mostly, merfolk, shenanigans abound
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 13:11:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12190614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxicpop/pseuds/toxicpop
Summary: Vega, a Southern wix, and Tess, a mermaid with a shark's tail, help the magical community of Cape Cod and beyond. Roman Reigns, a werewolf, commissions a magical cure. Hijinks ensue.





	By the Light of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> this is an idea I've been kicking around for about a year now and finally decided to work on somewhat regularly. it's gonna be a silly mess but that's ok, fic can't be super duper serious all the time. shoutout to my best pal TheRoarOfAtlas for letting me bounce ideas off her for months and months!

The brackish water lapped gently against the dock, almost black in the dusk. A lone figure sat with their feet hanging off the edge, skimming their toes against the surface and watching the fog roll in. In the distance a fin sliced through the water.

“Tess?” they called. “Tess, hurry up. I ain’t got all night.” The fin disappeared with a splash and a second later a horseshoe crab clattered onto the boards beside them.

“Fackin’ c-cold down there,” came a voice from below the dock. “Damn lucky I don’t make you go after ‘em yaself, Vega. Am I good to come up?”

“Yeah, I called in a fog. Got a towel for you and everything.” The wood creaked as two hands gripped the edge and a mermaid in a tee shirt with a shark’s tail hoisted herself up. Vega handed her the towel and she began drying her tail.

“Whatcha need the crab for anyway?” she asked, scrubbing at the water beaded on her fins.

“Selkie next town over has a fever that won’t break. Need the crab blood to add to this tincture, I think having something of the sea will pack a little extra punch.” Vega stood and nudged the crab with their toe. “They give me the wiggins something fierce, though.”

“Don’t be a fackin’ baby,” Tess ribbed. Her tail split into legs as her fins vanished and the grey shark hide faded to fair skin. She wrapped the towel around her lower half and lurched to her feet. “I’m always so unsteady on these things,” she grumbled. Vega laughed and picked up the crab with two fingers.

“Come on, I made cider,” they said, holding the crab away from their body like a dirty diaper. Tess whooped and ran on wobbly legs up the path to the house.

* * *

Word spread fast in the magical communities throughout the area that there was a wix living in the Bass River marshes, and that they made medicines for ailments a human doctor couldn’t fix. Vega soon had orders pouring in from all over the state. More often than not Tess would find them in the kitchen cursing under their breath over a mortar and pestle while something bubbled on the stove. This particular morning was no different, only Vega had their phone wedged between their cheek and shoulder. Tess could hear faint rumbles of a deep voice.

“Sounds good. I’ll have it ready by the end of the month, are your turns in a stable cycle? If so it should be done before your next one.” They paused, listening to the reply. “Oh, well that throws a wrench in things. Well, end of the month is the best I can do, come by then. Okay, be careful. Bye.” They hung up and huffed a sigh.

“Who was that?” Tess asked over her shoulder, groping blindly on the top shelf of the fridge for her blueberries.

“Werewolf by the name of Reigns. Lives on one’a them rich people islands, seems nice enough. Since he’s moved up here his turns have been unpredictable and he needs a good wolfsbane tincture to help him get it under control.” They peered down into their mortar and frowned. “I got wolfsbane, valerian, lemon balm, even chamomile in this shit. Think I should add some weed?”

“I see ya thought process, but that’s probably a bad idea.” Tess shrugged and poured a handful of berries into her mouth. “Werewolf out of his skin and high as a kite sounds like a recipe for disaster.” Vega slumped over the kitchen island and groaned.

“I’m outta ideas. Still gotta enchant this fucken moonshine to pull three times as fast as usual so it’s ready by the end of the month, and unfortunately Reigns is my guinea pig for this shit. I’ve never treated werewolves before. Good news is that Aunt Max really outdid herself with this here brew. Light your ass up like TNT, gonna make real strong medicine.” They took a sip from a faintly smoking mug.

“Do I wanna ask what ya drinking?” Tess said, making a face at the wispy tendrils that crept across the countertop and waving them away from her breakfast.

“Hot toddy, mostly. Knock the chill outta your bones. Threw in some sigils for a little kick, too. Oh!” They slammed the mug back down, nearly half the contents sloshing out over their hand. “Sigils! Why the fuck didn’t I think of sigils?” Vega threw open a drawer and rummaged around inside. Tess, watching with faint amusement, felt a tap on her ankle and looked down to find her pet lobster Clawrk trying to get her attention.

“Hey buddy!” she said, picking him up. “Do ya wanna go outside?” His shiny stalk eyes glittered and he snapped a claw at the door.

“Let Gator out too if you would,” Vega said. “He needs some exercise, the fat bastard.” Tess laughed and carried Clawrk to the front door.

“Hey Gator, come on!” Tess called. A very round opossum waddled out of the living room and blinked sleepily at her. “You two go outside for a little while, get some sunshine.” The first chill of autumn crept over her bare feet as she opened the front door. She set Clawrk down on the porch and shooed Gator out as well, ignoring how he grumbled as she closed the door behind them.

“When did ya get the delivery anyway?” Tess asked after returning to the kitchen. “I thought ya Aunt Max was on the lam again.”

Vega snorted. “Never underestimate a witch her age. She didn’t get caught during Prohibition, and she was well over a century by then. Besides, she had Cousin Bo drop by early this morning. He could charm the pants off'a God himself with that smile, never mind Johnny Law.” They traced a looping, winding sigil onto a coffee filter with a toothpick dipped in food coloring. “Brought me about twenty gallons, I’ll be set for a hot minute."

“Fackin' hell, that’s a lot of booze.” The mermaid munched her way through a few handfuls of berries while the wix threw the contents of their mortar and the sigil into a steaming pot on the stove and stirred furiously.

“What have you got planned for today, anyhow?”

“Think I’m gonna go out to the dock and paint. Since that nosy Rollins moved in I can’t swim during the day,” Tess huffed. “I’m pretty sure he noticed me once, but it was just my back fin above the water. Ran into him at Dunkins later that week and he asked me if I’d seen the shark this far upriver.”

“Could raise another fog for you,” Vega offered.

“This late in the morning? Suspicious. Don't need him snooping around again. Clawrk might snip his fackin' finger off this time.”

Vega laughed. “Remember the time Gator chased him? Fat little shit couldn’t run outta sight yet Rollins was screaming like a big ol' baby.”

“You know how humans are. No offense,” Tess amended quickly.

“None taken. Non magical folk are a nuisance.”

Tess stood. “At least I can sell my paintings to the tourists who want some local art. Send Clawrk down if you need me.”

* * *

The wind swept through her hair, full of the salt smell of the marsh. Tess sighed, gazing over the cordgrass to the water beyond. It just wasn’t _fair_ , she thought. Her paintbrush flowed over the canvas trying to capture the slow dance of the grass in the wind, the lazy ripple of the water she longed to dive into. Barely anywhere on the Cape was secluded enough for her to swim without worry. Sure, she could control whether or not she had legs or a tail, but what was the fun in the slow, awkward thrashing of human swimming? She could outrun a Great White in her true form, but without her tail she was fish food.

A steady rhythm of clicks tapped across the dock and Tess looked away from her painting to see Clawrk skittering towards her. He had a note clasped in his claw.

_You’ve been down there all day, everything all right? Dinner’s ready when you are. -V_

“Guess it’s time to go inside, huh buddy?” Tess patted Clawrk's dark blue shell and began packing up her paints. Her lobster waved his claw at the river.

“Aw, buddy, I know. We can swim after dark if the moon isn’t too bright.” With one more wistful look at the water, she turned on her heel and started back up the path to the house.


End file.
